The Calm Before the Storm
by queenofomega
Summary: The team winds up playing a deadly game when bodies turn up along with mysterious puzzle pieces. A storm is brewing and chaos will erupt when the final piece is put into play. SMacked, Dantana. HIATUS.
1. Case 1 Part 1

**Disclaimer: Nope, three stories later and I still don't own it.**

**Author's Note: So I'm back (though I never really left) with a new drama for you guys. A real _puzzle_ for you all! This time I'm using more of my limited forensic knowledge.**

Case 1:

He watched her hair as it slowly was lifted off her back for mere moments in the breeze, long curls dancing while they could before landing again. It was as if they wanted to fly but somehow couldn't make it far. Their dark colour was accented by the highlights that in his opinion were not really needed. She was beautiful without the need for make up or hair colouring.

He watched the way her hands moved quickly, picking up shards of glass, placing them in bags or setting them back down, trying to piece them with something else. Nothing else had her attention while she worked; when trying to solve a crime, she was like a hawk stalking her prey. All those criminals she had put away were the prey. The evidence was just the snack before the main meal.

He would be perfectly content to watch her all day, such a peaceful sight, even though she was far from peace of mind until she solved her latest puzzle. He could stand there all day…

"Mac!"

He turned around to glare at Flack. The younger man stood there grinning.

"I know that look. I do the same thin' with Jess. They're so pretty when…"

"Just shut up now, Don."

Flack grinned then it vanished, replaced with a face that was strictly business-only. A mischievous glimmer was still lurking in his eyes however. Mac kept glaring until Flack got the point and looked down at his notepad, covered in a highly illegible scrawl that Mac couldn't figure out how even Flack could read it afterwards.

"Found her student ID in her back pocket. Samantha Lake, 21, first year of college. She started a year late because of her sick grandmother."

Mac gave him a questioning look.

"The name rang a bell, so I called a friend who was one of the paramedics at the scene when her grandmother had a heart attack. She'd become friends with Samantha."

Mac nodded and took a step closer to Stella and the body. He pushed his thoughts from earlier out of his mind, and like Flack, when into a business-only mode. He'd perfected the mask over the years, no longer giving away what he thought about his partner- unless it was Flack. Flack seemed to make sure that he knew everything about Mac's love life.

The young woman was pretty. Not beautiful, but definitely pretty. Her hair was blonde, though obviously dyed, because auburn roots were starting to show at the top. She was dressed casually, as if it were just a regular Saturday shopping trip. Her face looked peaceful, as though she was ready to die, or had died suddenly without really much thought about her life ending early. One hand lay on her abdomen while the other seemed to be in the middle of brushing some hair out of her face. Stella went to move it and it flopped to the ground.

"No signs of rigor yet. She was killed recently."

Mac turned to Flack, who was already opening his mouth to speak. He knew the routine, and all the answers he needed. They were written down on his trusty notepad.

"She was found by a vendor, who took off the minute he told the cops. A cruiser happened to be passin' by. The cops thought nothin' of it, he looked pretty freaked, but they gave his description to a sketch artist for you guys.

"Thanks Flack. Any wit-"

Again, Flack was ready with the answer.

"I've got a couple of my guys out talkin' with people who've been in this park recently or all mornin'. No one's stepped forward yet, but we're bound to get somethin'."

He looked around, surveying the area. Mac did as well and noticed something odd.

"It's a small park. Someone had to have seen something."

Flack just shrugged, running off to go speak to a couple with a stroller. Their faces visibly paled, Mac saw, and they shook their heads when Flack asked them anything. They looked terrified to have brought their kid to this park. They took off quickly when Flack moved on to some old lady on a bench, feeding birds.

Mac crouched beside Stella, who had now bagged all the glass, and had moved on to taking pictures.

"What happened, do you think?"

Stella snapped a couple pictures of the victim's face.

"Well, there's no visible defense wounds, or any sign of physical trauma. She looks like she just lay down and died. There was glass all around, but I turned her over and there's no marks on her back except for a little dirt."

Mac looked at where the body was. It lay in a flowerbed, and it looked as though new, damp soil had been put down. That would explain the dirt on her back. Then Mac thought of something.

"Can we find out who put down this soil? They can't have done it too long ago, otherwise it wouldn't still be damp in this heat."

Stella nodded. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead to confirm his comment.

"But couldn't it have just been watered?"

Mac shook his head and brought up a handful of dirt and stuck it under Stella's nose. She raised an eyebrow.

"Smell it."

She did, but kept her eyebrow raised, still confused. Mac let out a tiny sigh.

"Soil only smells like that when it's just been put down and the nutrients haven't been used by the plant yet. So it couldn't have been just watered."

"I used to like gardening a lot," he added quietly.

Stella looked impressed. She made a mental note to talk to the gardener and to ask Mac how to make her houseplants look alive again. Lately one of her favourites was looked a little… grey and dead. She scooped up a small sample of dirt to bring back to the lab. Who knew? It might come in handy. She glanced over her shoulder at Flack, who was questioning a girl that looked to be the victim's age. She looked shocked, then upset, then Flack asked her something and she nodded slowly.

Flack was coming over their way, the girl following him. She looked mortified when she risked a glance at the body. It was creepy to see someone look as if they were just sleeping when they were dead. Stella knew the feeling. It made her want the body just to wake up, dust themselves off, and walk away, sparing Stella the trouble of having to tell some family that someone they loved was dead.

Flack hung back for a moment after directing the girl to his car.

"She knows the vic. Says she may know somethin' so she's agreed to come in to talk."

Stella nodded and looked down at her evidence. It seemed that she had gotten everything.

"We'll come now."

She and Mac stood, signaling for someone to come and bring to body to Sid. They'd deal with that later.

**CSI: NY**

The girl sat quietly, waiting with Flack until Mac and Stella entered the interrogation room. She looked a little nervous at being in a police station, but Flack had assured her that she wasn't in trouble. She looked similar to the victim, with long blonde hair, bright eyes (Stella couldn't tell what colour they really were), but a paler complexion and she was much shorter. She also looked a bit younger.

Flack introduced everyone.

"Mary, this is Detectives Stella Bonasera and Mac Taylor. Mac, Stella, this is Mary Lake. She's Samantha's cousin."

Mac came to sit beside Flack, while Stella stood off to the side. The girl had a sad look in her eyes, on the verge of tears, but she could tell that Mary was holding it in so that she wouldn't cry in front of them. Stella admired her already.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mac said to her, quietly and sympathetically. People assumed that they automatically said those words on a reflex because they were trained to, but Mac really meant it, to each and every person he had to say it to. It often pained him that he had to say it so much, but some people really found comfort in the words, especially when they came from a complete stranger.

"Can you tell the detectives what you told me, Mary?" Flack prodded gently. It had been hard to get anything out of her earlier, when she had cried, but Mary took a deep breath and spoke:

"I was supposed to meet Sam for lunch at a café, not too far from the park. But she never showed up. She had called me this morning saying she'd come as soon as she took care of some business, but she never did. I went looking for her and found you."

Mac nodded. He watched as Mary sniffled and wiped one of her eyes. Mac pushed a Kleenex box over to her. She smiled sadly and thanked him. She pulled a Kleenex out and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Mac reached around the table to hold out the garbage can for her. He could see Stella eyeing him from the side of the room.

"Anyways," she continued, "I thought I'd let you know now, rather than never, that I don't know what kind of business she had, but it worried me. Sometimes she'd go off and disappear for a few days. We are- were- close, so it worried me when I couldn't get a hold of her."

Mac nodded at Flack, who stood and held out a hand to Mary. He led her out, and Stella came to sit beside Mac.

"What do you think?"

"I think she's a sweet girl who just lost her cousin to something a bit more serious than we thought."

"Then what was with the Kleenex?" Stella asked, frowning.

"Well, the evidence tells the story. She could just be coming to us to make it look as though she's innocent of something. So, to play fairly, I just got her DNA without needing to ask."

Stella smiled.

"Are you allowed to do that?"  
"No, but she's not allowed to hide stuff from the police if she agrees to talk to us. I believe she's genuinely upset, but she's still lying about something."

**CSI: NY**

"So what have you got for me, Sid?"

Sid smiled at Stella.

"Well, I know how much you like puzzles, so here."

He passed Stella a small piece of a puzzle. She couldn't figure out what the picture was, and she looked up at Sid, confused.

"Where'd this come from?"

Sid gestured for her to come closer to the body he had laid out on his table. Stella knew it was Samantha Lake considering Sid had just texted her (yes, Sid knew how to text, as surprising as that was) saying he had news. He opened the victim's mouth and pointed.

"In here."

Stella raised an eyebrow.

"So our killer has a signature."

"Apparently. And I found a sticky green substance on her right shoulder, that I sent up to trace. I have no idea what it was… but it smelled minty."

"Minty?"

Sid pulled his glasses apart and let them hang from his neck. He turned away from the body to look at Stella.

"Yup, minty. I think it was toothpaste, but I wasn't sure. There wasn't enough for me to tell."

He leaned up against the examining table. He sighed and spared a quick glance down at the victim.

"Now your case here is a baffling one. I have no cause of death. I looked at her, inside and out, and everything is perfectly healthy. She should be up and walking around right now."

Stella's other eyebrow went up to make her look of confusion turn to one of surprise.

"She's perfectly healthy?"

"That's what I said. She shows no signs of internal or external trauma. I sent Mac her stomach contents, but it all looked normal. I think she had eggs for breakfast."

Stella blinked, mildly disgusted by the fact that he now could distinguish different foods from each other when all mixed up into someone's liquid-y stomach contents. Her stomach, which had been grumbling because she had skipped lunch, stopped. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

"Thanks, Sid," she quickly said, rushing out before Sid could share anymore of his strange pieces of knowledge that she really had no interest in knowing about.

Sid sighed and put his glasses back on. He turned to the victim and, as his fellow ME, Alexx, in Miami would do, muttered to the body:

"You're making me have to do more work that I should."

**CSI: NY**

Upstairs, Adam was looking over the results of Mary's snot. His first comment when Mac brought it to him:

"Ugh, Mac, I know the paper airplane throwing contest in the hall was irritating, but boogers are not really the punishment I had in mind."

Mac smiled. The young lab tech always knew how to make a joke.

"Not a punishment, Adam, evidence. I need DNA."

Adam grinned.

"I'll have it to you in ten minutes."

**Author's Note: More to come, but as school starts again tomorrow, my chapter won't be coming twice a day anymore. :P**

**Hugs,**

**Lim  
**


	2. Case 1 Part 2

**Disclaimer: You know what I'm going to say.**

**Author's Note: Sudden inspiration for this one. Next one may or may not come quickly.  
**

"That was eleven minutes, Adam," said Mac as the lab tech came rushing into his boss's office. But it wasn't like Adam was in trouble, because Mac was smiling. Adam feigned mock anger.

"And after I rushed my butt over from two rooms away, I'm still late!"

He laughed and passed Mac the sheet that showed what Mary's DNA looked like so that Mac could use it for comparison later on.

"Anything else for me, boss? I've gotta go figure out what that minty stuff is that Sid found."

Adam stood with his hands behind his back, rocking from foot to foot by shifting his weight. He looked like a little boy anxious to open a present. Mac nodded.

"Go ahead, Adam."

As Adam left, Stella walked in. She held a couple sheets over paper in her hand. From what Mac could tell, she'd highlighted certain bits on it. She came and put it down in front of Mac.

"This is a list of all the city gardeners who work in the area. The ones highlighted in yellow are the ones working at the park this morning."

Mac nodded and flipped through the list of names. Somehow, Stella had managed to highlight each name perfectly straight. He wondered if she used a ruler.

"And what are the pink ones?"

"Those," Stella explained, pointing to the two names Mac had noticed on the second page, "are the only gardeners in the area who were working within two hours of the body being found."

Mac nodded again. But Stella had used a two-hour window, when normally it would have been smaller. There had been no signs of rigor, so Samantha Lake couldn't have been dead long. It was like Stella had read his mind.

"Now, I sent you up a memo of what Sid told me about the body. She should be perfectly healthy. That led me to wonder, would rigor even happen once she was dead?"

Mac hadn't thought of that. He'd read her memo, and it had surprised him, thinking that maybe Stella had made some mistake. But now she was repeating the same thing in person. There was no doubt that the memo was, in fact, true. He thought of something.

"What about when you went down there? There would have been plenty of time for rigor to set in."

Stella shook her head, curls bouncing around on her shoulders and back. Mac had to admire her beauty, even when in the middle of a conversation about a dead body. What would Flack have to say to that?

"Mac?" Stella snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Did you hear a word I just said?"

He jolted inwardly.

"No, sorry. Could you repeat-"

Stella just smiled. It was one of those knowing smiles, the kind Mac was bothered by, like she knew something Mac didn't. Or if she knew something Mac didn't want her to know.

"I said that rigor hasn't set it. It's driving Sid crazy that he can't figure this one out."

Mac wondered what Sid was up to. He was certainly odd at times, which led him to believe that he had all kinds of tricks up his sleeves that Mac neither knew about nor wanted to know about.

"He'll find something. In the meantime, we should probably go talk to-"

Adam flagging him from the trace lab cut him off again. Mac nodded to Stella to look behind her. Adam was doing a little jig of sorts to try and get their attention. Another lab tech behind him was looking embarrassed and mouthing, "I don't know him". Stella laughed. Together, she and Mac went to go see what Adam wanted. Stella brought her list with her.

Adam, who had now stopped his really stupid looking jig, was back at one of the computers, pulling up a screen that showed a bunch of different peaks and drops that named different chemicals. Mac and Stella waited until he was done typing to hear his report. Mac had to give it to him: Adam worked fast.

"Okay," said Adam, turning around. He took in a breath, and Mac knew he about to launch into some long explanation.

"I couldn't figure out what the sample was on its own. There wasn't enough to pull up an actual substance record. But because you, Stella, pointed out that Sid thought it was toothpaste, I took my partial results," He pulled up a second screen that he placed beside the first (the complete sample), "and compared them to regular mint toothpaste."

Mac looked at the two comparisons. The complete one was labeled differently than what Adam had just told them. Adam noticed what Mac was looking at and got his attention again.

"I'm not finished. The samples weren't quite the same, so I tried something else. I thought my own toothpaste both looked and smelled the same," This got an odd look from Mac but Adam ignored it, "so I went and grabbed a tube out of my locker and compared my sample with Sid's. They're a match."

Stella looked impressed with Adam's improvisation. She put a hand on his shoulder, and Adam beamed with pride. Stella and Mac both knew he took his job incredibly seriously. Though not too much or he wouldn't hold paper airplane throwing contests, Mac thought.

Adam passed Mac his tube of toothpaste, which had been carefully placed, in an evidence bag.

"I've got more at home," he said.

**CSI: NY**

Stella had returned to the park with her list of suspects, and, as she expected, found two men still working by another group of flowerbeds. She approached them, though rather loudly to get their attention from behind. They turned, and one guy whistled. Stella rolled her eyes.

"Are you boys Manny Rodriguez and Harry Rost?"

They nodded.

"I'm Manny," one said, pointing to himself nervously and then he pointed to the other adding, "and that's Harry."

The one who called himself Manny was tall, lanky, and covered in acne: face, neck, and arms. He stood with his hands at his sides, biting his lip. He looked like the typical nervous, pimply teenager, except Stella knew he was older than that. The other boy, Harry, was definitely a teenager, though good looking. He stood tall and proud, with messy yet attractive dark hair and twinkling eyes.

"Do you both work here often?" Stella asked. Manny was the first to answer, seemingly to get it out of the way.

"Everyday for the past two years, all four seasons."

Harry was slower to reply, but did answer in a low voice:

"Just a summer job for me. I started the other day."

Stella nodded. She watched Manny, who nervously looked away when she made eye contact. He shook slightly. Harry looked apologetic.

"Don't mind him, he's like that with all new people he meets. Not a people person, plus you haven't introduced yourself."

Stella apologized. She hadn't realized she hadn't introduced herself. Normally it was the first thing she did. Her stomach grumbled again. She really needed lunch.

"Detective Stella Bonasera, Crime Lab," she said, shaking Harry's outstretched hand. Manny hesitantly stuck out his own hand too for her to shake. Even though he was a grown man, he looked like a shy little boy.

"So are you here about this morning, ma'am?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I am. Did either of you see anything? You weren't around when the police came."

Harry nodded. He shrugged carelessly and stuck his hands in his pockets. Stella noticed a small blob of pale green stuff on his sleeve.

"We had our lunch break, and we figured we should just go in case we got in your way. Didn't want to cause trouble or anything."

Stella didn't blink. The way he said it, it sounded more like Harry had just made a run for it and had brought Manny with him. She'd ruled Manny out. He was too shy, and he'd never go up to someone with the guts to kill them. Plus, it was Harry with the green blob on his shirt.

"Harry, where were you before we came?"

"I was over by those flowerbeds over there."

He pointed. The flowerbeds he was pointing at were awfully close to the ones Samantha Lake had been found in.

"Mr Rost, I'm going to have to bring you in for questioning. You can come on your own free will or I can get a warrant."

Harry held up his hands in surrender.

"No need for a warrant, ma'am. I'll just come."

Stella added one more thing.

"Can I have your shirt?"

**CSI: NY**

Harry Rost sat in the interrogation room, now dressed in a black NYPD t-shirt. Flack, considering the fact that the man wasn't actually in custody, gave him the t-shirt rather than the hideous orange criminal shirts. Flack now sat across from him, waiting for Stella and Mac to join him for the second time that day. It was now almost five in the evening, and Flack hoped they would hurry up so he could go and actually be on time for his dinner date with Jess.

When they arrived, Stella took the spot beside Flack and Mac stood, quietly observing. Stella brought out a couple photos and some pages of information. She also put Adam's tube of toothpaste in front of Harry.

"Do you use this kind of toothpaste, Harry?"

He nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah, why?"

Stella showed him a photo of his shirt with the glob of toothpaste on it. She also showed him the one of the toothpaste on the victim.

"We found this kind of toothpaste on Samantha Lake's body. Now, in the park, I noticed you had something of the same colour on your shirt."

She pulled out a sheet of paper showing the comparison of the two samples. Again, they had the same peaks and drops.

"They match. Did you see Samantha Lake?"

She pushed a picture of Samantha that another CSI had found in her apartment.

"Sure. I accidentally bumped into her. I admit that. I was on my way to put down new soil. That's how my toothpaste got on her."

Stella had to admit that it made sense. She stood and gestured for Mac to come sit. They switched places. Mac passed Harry another sheet of paper.

"You've got a record, Mr Rost."

Harry snorted.

"Yeah, so?"

"Samantha's cousin told us that she believed Samantha was involved in something she shouldn't have been. You used to sell drugs. I know undercover cops who've told me that you still do."

Mac leaned back in his chair, and Harry glared at him. Harry crossed his arms. The two of them were measuring each other up.

"Were you selling drugs to Samantha? Had she forgotten to pay you or ratted you out and you killed her? Is that what happened?"

Harry looked outraged.

"How can you accuse me of this? If you've got proof I still sell, then lock me up for that. But I've never seen this girl before today, let could have killed her!"

Mac nodded. He got up and looked down at Flack. Flack escorted Harry out, then passed him on to another cop before running off to meet his girlfriend, Jessica Angell. He wouldn't be late after all!

Back in the interrogation room, Stella was frustrated.

"We can prove Harry Rost was there, and his story makes sense. But we have no proof that your drug theory is correct!"

Stella sighed.

Mac stood, then held his arm out to Stella. She took it as they walked out together.

"We'll get him."

**CSI: NY**

A young woman came rushing into the break room, almost tripping over Adam, who was busy entertaining Stella and Lindsay with couple origami tricks. Mac, who had been standing over by the coffee maker, came to join them as the young mail girl passed an envelope to Stella. She muttered something then ran off again.

Stella kept the envelope on her lap.

"Someone sent this to us. Said it was urgent."

But it was hand addressed to the team. Mac pulled on a pair of his latex gloves and picked it up off of Stella's lap. He carefully opened it, trying not to rip the envelope too much. It held an ordinary piece of printer paper inside. Mac unfolded it.

Written in a neat, curved handwriting, was a short letter in regular blue ink from what Mac assumed was a typical ballpoint pen. Stella stood and came to read over Mac's shoulder. Lindsay remained sitting with Adam.

_To the wonderful CSIs of Mac Taylor and Stella Bonasera's team, it read._

_You've found Samantha Lake, and you've come to the conclusion that you will not be able to solve her murder. More bodies will come along with my puzzle pieces._

_Here is your first clue in my game:_

_Danny Messer's first little league baseball game was held where?_

_Sincerely,_

_The Puzzle Master_

Mac grabbed a plastic bag from in one of the drawers in their mini-kitchen. He passed the letter and envelope, now sealed in the bag, to Adam to process. He was off in a flash.

What did the letter mean, and who was 'The Puzzle Master'?

Mac's worries were echoed in Stella and Lindsay's faces.


	3. Case 2 Part 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish it was.**

**Author's Note: I'm trying to find a way to lead up to the climax in an interesting way. I'm going to need your feedback for this one. I want to know if it needs more. My muse has deserted me... **

**Thanks to **lily moonlight **for the hours of wonderful reading last night that finally got me to write something. :)**

Case 2

Danny and Lindsay stood in the middle of the baseball diamond, obvserving the fairly peaceful scene in front of them.

It was like any normal day in Central Park. Children shrieked and shouted at each other, playing sports or games. Parents sat on colourful picnic blankets, long since abandoning the effort of trying to round up their kids. The park was fairly packed, and the blankets created a patchwork quilt of dots, stripes, and checkers over the green grass. They had found where Danny had played his first Little League game after a quick phonecall to his mom, but there was no sign of any dead bodies. Had they come to the wrong park? Danny couldn't remember when that game even was, and he wondered if his mom was thinking of the right game. Everyone around them looked very much alive.

Lindsay started to wander off, and Danny followed. She was focused on some spot in the near distance that Danny couldn't see without his glasses, carelessly forgotten in his locker.

"What's up, Montana?"

"Obviously not her."

Lindsay pointed and Danny squinted to see a blurry figure lying on a park bench. Lindsay didn't slow, so as what seemed to be a sleeping homeless person neared, Danny began to notice what Lindsay had noticed as odd. Though covered in a ratty blanket, the woman underneath was definitely not homeless. Lindsay pulled on her gloves and pulled the blanket away. Danny winced from the bright sunlight reflected into his eyes from her attire.

The woman was wearing a lemon yellow party dress with a wide, frilly skirt and a tight fitting sleeveless top. It was covered with glitter, beads, and sequins. She looked ready to go to a fashion show for sunflowers. Her dark hair was curled and sprinkled with more glitter. Her make up was almost flawless ("I'd love to meet her stylist," Lindsay muttered) and her fingernails and toenails were freshly painted as well. The only things she lacked were shoes. Danny looked around for a sign of any stray footwear. He found none, as least within his range of vision.

Lindsay was looking around again. She started waving at an approaching woman.

Jessica Angell was jogging up to them, the sunlight hitting her hair at an angle that made it glow. It made Danny stare so Lindsay elbowed him painfully in the gut before going off to meet her friend. Danny groaned. He never understood why women got so protective when a man was appreciative of another woman's good looks. On the bright side, Angell was carrying a tray of coffee. Danny gratefully took one of the steaming paper cups from her. Sure, it was hot outside, but coffee was good at anytime in his mind.

Angell glanced around, then took one look at the victim and tried to smother a laugh rising in her throat. The outfit really did look quite ridiculas, though the poor woman wearing it was dead. Angell normally wouldn't have laughed, but it was just so... strange. It made you want to laugh, as wrong as the cirumstances were. She stepped back and made sure the body was not in her line of vision. She felt a little bad about that laugh...

"Any witnesses?" she asked the two CSIs, who shook their heads. They hadn't seen anyone around. Any person who had passed had probably assumed the body was just some homeless person, as they had. No one had even spared a glance at the human sunflower either, Lindsay mentally noted. A little odd, but in the presence of cops, they may be too nervous to step up. She shrugged to herself.

Lindsay took a sip of her coffee. She knelt beside the bench, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Nothing.

Danny took the body, and Angell went off in search of witnesses. Danny spotted nothing out of place. He looked down at Lindsay, and they exchanged a puzzled look. Little did they know, they would soon end up hating the word puzzle. Without needing to speak, one look at the body and they knew:

The Puzzle Master had definitely made this woman his second victim.

**CSI: NY**

Adam inspected the note forwards, backwards, upside down, and sideways but found nothing. No prints, and no trace. It had been confirmed that the pen that had written the note was a regular blue, medium point Bic. Millions were sold in New York City alone. Adam glared down at the pen he was using: the same kind.

His earbuds blared to the sound of Paramore, his current favourite band. Still, the music, something Sinclair hated when the lab techs were working, did nothing to lighten his mood. Something about that message had haunted him. It gave him a bad feeling; it was a familiar feeling, locked away deep inside. That age old scar had just been ripped open and it hurt. Adam hadn't told anyone yet- it would just cause more trouble than necessary.

He switched tracks on his iPod when Stella stepped into the lab, holding another piece of paper in a gloved hand. She looked grim, and passed it over silently. What had The Puzzle Master done now? Adam glanced down at the letter as Stella rushed out of the room. She looked uncharacteristically upset. Adam risked a worried glance over his shoulder. Stella was already out of sight.

He looked down at the note:

_You found her: good job. This is just a little game of mine. You're doing well so far. I promise that it will be a lot of fun. Keep up the good work._

_Expect to hear from me again soon._

_The Puzzle Master_

Adam shuddered involuntarily. What was this guy's big plan? Adam went to work, looking for prints.

**CSI: NY**

A storage building was not the greatest place to be in hiding. It lacked air conditioning, was full of all kinds of stuff that just got in the way, and was just not meant to be lived in. Former Detective Joyce Fields stepped over a cardboard box filled with what looked like a bunch of board games.

When she entered the building, it immediately was filled with a commanding presence. Joyce was no doubt in control. She walked like a model, filled with confidence. A stranger would never know what she gone through or the hurt that her pride had suffered. She made sure that she was immune to what people thought. What she said was law.

She approached an old maple table that appeared to have had better days. If it were possible for inanimate objects to feel fear, that was probably the only thing keeping it upright for those around it. The four already there looked impatient.

Joyce took her spot at the end of the table. Technically, she was not really the one in charge, but without her, their little group would be lacking any sense of order. She held them together and they knew it. Without her, to put it bluntly, they were screwed.

One man, looked smug and proud. He was a match for Joyce if it came to having to argue over a course of action. But for now, he only had a few words to share:

"The end is near for them..."

He smiled.

"But it is only the beginning for us."

**Author's Note: More coming, not sure when. School is... well, normal, which may prevent me from updating often. I'll try not to be too late: Wednesday hopefully. Reviews are appreciated. Lim x**


	4. Case 2 Part 2

**Dislaimer: Not mine...**

**Author's Note: Another quick chapter for you. Written fairly quickly, just to progress with the story. Hopefully not too boring. One more chapter before the drama starts.**

**Thanks to **lily moonlight **again for letting me bounce ideas off of you. It helped me kind of collect my thoughts about this one. :)**

Case 2, part 2; Case 3, part 1

The wooden doors loomed over Stella, casting a dark shadow over the marble steps. The giant structure was somehow squeezed in between a pharmacy and a book store. In spite of the hot summer heat, Stella could feel a chill run down the length of her spine. She hadn't been to this church since high school, back when she was still in foster care. The church brought back strong memories of moving, seeing siblings come and go, and some rather awful things that she would rather not think about. Mac stood in the doorway, patiently waiting for her. Stella took a couple of steps forward, refusing to let a simple church bother her.

It was not a peaceful atmosphere inside the church, not like Stella was used to. It was hectic and tense, nuns running around and a couple regular people that had come in to pray looked fearful and even more so when they saw Mac flash his badge at the pastor. They were led over to a pew where a woman sat, appearing very much alive. Stella knew better. She'd been told by Danny that the body that he and Lindsay had found followed the same MO.

Stella remembered the letters. It was bothering her, and the rest of the team, that the crime scenes were getting personal. First Danny, now herself. It made her nervous that whoever was killing these women knew so much about them. It had everyone on edge after they read the second letter.

Stella knelt beside the body, turning her flashlight on to look underneath the pew. She saw a couple pieces of chewed up gum, some dust bunnies, and a small piece of torn fabric. Stella gathered the gum and the fabric, while above her, Mac processed the body, already aware of what he would find. She looked fine.

She was not as... eccentric as Danny and Lindsay's victim. She was dressed in a green plaid, pleated skirt, a white blouse, and a green blazer. Her long blonde hair was twisted in a simple bun, long locks falling from beneath the fraying elastic. She looked like she came from a family with a lot of money, enough to afford going to one o New York's finest private schools. Mac recognized the uniform. He had once known a girl when he was a kid who had transfered to the school. She had come by his school once to visit then he had never heard from her since. He had to have been about twelve then... Mac couldn't remember. He still quickly looked over her body, but found nothing. He stood up straight and looked over at Stella who had wandered over to speak with a young nun who stood shaking in a corner.

"Sister, did you see anyone approach this girl at all?" he heard Stella asking gently as he joined her. She gave him a fleeting glance out of the corner of her eye.

The nun shook her head. She was looking straight into Stella's eyes with a look that insisted she was telling the truth.

"I was watching her all day. She came in this morning, all upset about something. She didn't want to talk, so we let her be. I figured she'd been here for a little long, so I went to go and check on her. I found her like that."

Stella nodded. Mac looked over his shoulder at the body. He could see why she had been concerned. The girl was just sitting there. There was really no way to tell how long she had been dead. He and Stella went back to grab their kits and hailed the ME, who came to pick up the body. Other than talking to a few people, they had very little to do. Normally Mac would be a little glad to be able to go back to the lab quickly, but only under the circumstances that they could catch the perp responsible. They had nothing on this one. It was disappointed.

Stella felt the same. But she gathered up the little evidence she did have glad to have something. Even if it lead nowhere, they could have some hope. Maybe luck was on their side. She refused to believe that three cases in a row would be unsolved. They were better than that. One smart criminal was no different than all the others: they were criminals and they were not allowed to ruin the Crime Lab's reputation. Stella would not let that happen. Sinclair was already on their backs about the first two cases.

On their way out, Stella felt a small tap on her shoulder. A small, hunched old woman was smiling up at her. Stella broke out into a grin when she recognized the little nun in front of her.

"Sister Dora," she said, embracing the lady. The embrace was returned with surprising strength for such an old woman. Stella hadn't seen her elderly friend for years. When she had graduated from high school, she'd come to visit a couple times but then had stopped coming entirely.

"Stella. I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances."

Stella nodded. Dora looked up at her with wise, sad eyes. Stella knew that Dora cared for everyone, especially the teenagers that came into the church with their troubles. Losing one must hurt, Stella thought. She had come in enough, often complaining about younger foster siblings or moving or things along the lines of that. Dora had always been there with a welcoming hug and some much needed advice.

"You have been well?" Dora asked, sending a pointed glance around Stella toward Mac's retreating form.

"Very," Stella replied, smiling at the mischievous glint in Dora's eyes. It was all in good humour. Stella gave Dora another quick hug before turning to chase after Mac.

"You come back soon, you hear?"

"Of course!"

And Stella planned to. She went to throw the evidence in Mac's Jeep before sliding into the passenger's seat. Dora waved, and Stella returned it as they drove away. Mac had been silent until Stella straightened herself out so she was facing the windshield.

"A friend?"

"A very close one."

**CSI: NY**

Danny stood beside Mac in the coroner's office. Sid stood in between their two victims, casually leaning on the desk behind him. His glasses hung around his neck, and his grey hair was slightly ruffled, as if he had been running his hand through it.

"Whatcha got for us, doc?" Danny asked, looking down at Miss Sunflower, now looking a little less shiny after the shower given to her by Sid. Both were covered entirely, except for their heads. Mac and Danny both knew that there wasn't even the slightest of scratches to be shown on their bodies.

"Well, your ladies here are both fine. Like your last victim, Mac, they're both supposed to be up and running about their usual lives right now."

He paused to pick up two items from a folding tray beside him. They were sealed into seperate little evidence bags.

"Give these to Stella. You're two steps closer to whatever this puzzle is supposed to mean."

Danny and Mac took a bag each. The picture on the tiny pieces was hard to see. They had no idea what it was supposed to be. Mac looked down at his victim, who looked as if she should have been out with friends right now rather than lying on a medical examiner's hard, cold, metal table.

"I sent prints up to be checked on Danny's vic. Mac, yours was Lily Miranda Robinson. Her ID was found in a pocket that was sewn into the inside of her blouse. She was seventeen."

Sid looked sad. Mac's face hardened. He put up that shield of his that protected him from making cases too personal. That had only gotten him in trouble before. Obviously, that girl was too young to die. All the more reason to concentrate on finding her killer, he thought harshly. Danny was giving him a knowing look.

"Thanks, Sid," Danny said, before he and Mac went to go find Adam and Stella.

**CSI: NY**

Stella sat at her desk, staring down at the three pieces of the small puzzle in front of her. She had had all three pieces dusted for prints, but found nothing. They had come up clean for anything. But they had to mean something.

Stella had put them together and reserved a small square of clear space on her desk for them. Mac had let her hold onto them for now. Until they were really needed, Stella had been studying them and looking up things like why people used puzzles as clues in past cases. Nothing had turned up. She sighed and her green eyes stared down at the pieces.

_What are you trying to tell me?_

**CSI: NY**

Adam found Danny first. He practically pounced on the older man from behind enthusiastically waving a piece of paper in front of Danny's glasses.

"Your vic is Kristine Hopkins, a model. Her company filed a missing persons report after she failed to show up at home or at work for several days. Other than that, there's nothing I can tell you."

Danny nodded. Mac was coming up behind them, clutching an envelope in his gloved hand. Adam paled, and Danny sighed.

"Whatcha thinking Mac?"

Mac shook his head and just passed the letter to Adam and Danny.

_Dear CSIs,_

_Lovely to see you trying so hard to solve this case. You won't, I promise._

_Your next clue: Where did Hawkes first save someone's life?_

_Have fun,_

_The Puzzle Master_

**Author's Note: Many loose ends left hanging here. I'll sum them up at some point in the next chapter or toward the end of the fic. Remember, one more boring chapter you have to get through. I apologize.**

**Lim x  
**


	5. End of Cases

**Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.**

**Author's Note: Quick, crappy, straight to the point. This chapter is very fast-paced (something about my writing at 11pm), and finally we're getting to the point where I'm not bored when writing... So here you go! Sorry that it was a bit late.  
**

Hawkes stood outside of the café with a sense of pride. It was here that, at the age of twelve, he had saved the life of a choking man. It was then that he had decided that he would be a doctor and help people.

The man had been eating a grape when a companion of his had cracked some strange joke, that little Hawkes had not understood at the time, and the man swallowed the grape mid-laugh. Silence had filled the café except for the man's gasps.

Hawkes had been out with a couple friends at the time. Years of swimming lessons had prepared him for that moment. While everyone else stood around, watching in fear as the man choked, Hawkes had jumped into action.

Learning the Himelick maneuver was the best thing that had happened to him after that day. All those swimming lessons he had hated so much had come in handy. He had forced that pesky little grape out of the man's airway, and had been declared a hero by the paramedics.

He had also been the hero of his friends who had witnesses the event.

So Sheldon Hawkes had been a little worried when the letter was shown to him. He had taken pride in that tiny café being the place he had saved his first life; he didn't want a murder to take place there.

But, nevertheless, Hawkes stepped into the café for the first time in years, ready to look for clues to finally catch their killer.

**CSI: NY**

Back at the lab, Sid was busy doing a small happy dance. He'd done it! He'd solved the mystery of the dead girls… well, partially. Still, nothing could separate Sid from his good mood. Not even when Mac and Stella came into the morgue looking utterly morbid. Stella raised an eyebrow at Sid's joyful grin.

"Trimadioxide," he announced triumphantly.

Stella opened her mouth to speak but Mac beat her to it:

"In English that is…?"

Sid led them over to one of his examining tables. Their first victim lay there, looking the same as she had when they had last seen her. But Sid was busy putting his tools away so he could make room for the plastic container holding a heart:

A rather colourful heart.

"Trimadioxide, as I have recently found out, was an experimental drug from a few years ago. No one is quite sure what it was intended to be used for, but the government made sure that it would not be made after there were some rather awful side effects…"

Sid gestured to the heart.

"This was one of them. I was looking over the bodies again and this was not there when I first examined her.

"Obviously whoever created the drug has… well, apparently perfected it, or at least found a use for it."

Mac nodded. Stella looked a little repulsed at the site of the rainbow coloured heart. She wasn't too fond of looking at normal internal organs; abnormal ones didn't suit her fancy wither.

Sid was not done yet.

"So I tested the sample of heart against the old samples of trimadioxide, and they match. Well, slight differences, but it's been about ten years since this stuff was last made…"

Mac held up his hand to stop Sid. Sid gave him a small scowl for cutting off from his minute of fame. He still wasn't done. He'd done so much research too! Leave it to Mac Taylor to want to get straight to the point. Sid sighed and passed over a small booklet.

"Name of the creator and all suppliers, old and new," he said, rather disappointed. Poor Sid loved talking about his findings.

Mac gave him a small smile.

"Exactly, Sid. Great work."

He turned to leave, then said over his shoulder:

"I expect a full report on my desk."

Sid eagerly bounced off to do so. Once Mac and Stella left the morgue, Stella gagged. She was not looking forward to reading a report on colourful hearts.

**CSI: NY**

Mac looked over the list of names carefully. Five years previously, the list stopped. But one name had come up recently: the creator of the drug, Darry LaGarda. Apparently he'd recently been caught by an undercover while making a couple deals with some street dealers. He'd needed a space to make his drug, it read.

Mac was just about to stretch and go to grab something to eat when an enthusiastic girl came rushing into the room. Her fiery curls slapped her in the face as she stopped.

"Detective Taylor, your guy's gotten sloppy. I've been requested to report for Adam that he got a hit in CODIS on the DNA on the gum you found in the church, and the epithelial on the ripped denim matched as well."

She handed over another sheet of paper. Mac smiled at the young woman, a lab tech and occasional CSI.

"Great, Eva, thanks. Has Hawkes sent anything over yet?"

Mac was pleased by their sudden lead. Eva and Adam were right: their killer was getting sloppy. He headed off to find Stella, Danny, and Lindsay. On his way out, he brushed up against another CSI. He gave her a quick apology. She scowled.

**CSI: NY**

Danny and Lindsay sat in Stella's office, mulling over crime scene photos, when Mac came in, dropping his stack of paper in front of them. Stella took one look at the top sheet (the DNA results) and her face brightened. Danny muttered "Boom" under his breath, and Lindsay smiled.

Then Mac's cellphone rang. He picked it up to see an incoming text. Hawkes was back, and waiting for then in the lab's underground parking lot. The team went to meet him at the elevator.

Hawkes said nothing but silently handed over a small puzzle piece to Stella. She took it and with a meaningful look, took off to find Adam.

Mac took a deep breath, then started handing out orders.

"Lindsay, you'll stay here with me and Stella. Hawkes, go get Flack and go and try to find this Darry LaGarda guy."

Mac passed him the information on LaGarda. He then passed the DNA sheet to Danny. Their guy was a Garrett Roshwell, known well in the system.

"Danny, find Angell. You two get Roshwell."

Danny snorted at the name then they all separated.

**CSI: NY**

"You idiots are going to get us caught! They've got evidence, DNA, all that crap! You don't need to be a CSI to know what that means!"

Joyce had spent the last few hours watching the team. It seemed that all their leads had suddenly just been thrown at them very quickly. Now she was mad.

"We need to get this done without being caught, dimwits. I'll go and speed up the process later, but I heard that Hawkes got out of that scene way too quickly. Obviously he found all that he needed to, because you fools screwed up!"

Garrett Roshwell cowered in his seat, and the other men around him did as well. Joyce was scary when she was mad.

Beside Garrett, a man by the name of Zhou Li was looking down at his knees.

"They haven't solved my puzzle yet, so they can't be too far…"

"Idiot! Your puzzle is only part of this to keep them occupied. It means nothing! Not if we're going to get caught…"

Joyce sighed and slumped into a chair behind her.

"Garrett, you and I both want our revenge. We'll get it, but we need to hurry this up…"

Garrett looked over at Joyce. She seemed to have gone from furious to defeated. He felt bad for her. The former detective was risking enough by sneaking into the lab. It was a wonder she hadn't been caught. He looked up at the grey, tiled ceiling.

"Already got someone on it…" he muttered.

**CSI: NY**

Stella was just walking back to her office to look over some other work she had to finish, when she noticed something was off.

Her desk was a mess. It looked as though someone had been looking for something. She went to investigate and found that much of her stuff had been shoved to the side or knocked off of the desk. The puzzle lay in the centre of it.

But now there were five pieces rather than four. When she had left, after getting Adam to dust for prints (no such luck), there had been a space in the centre, between the pieces. The missing piece had filled in the gap.

The puzzle was complete.

Stella studied it, it's small picture now easily seen. She gasped at the illustration, all the fine details included in the intricate picture. Beside the puzzle was a note.

_We're closer than you think._

_Goodbye._

**Author's Note: The drug is made-up, by the way. Fit some vowels together, made it sound cool, and _voila_**_**!**_** you have a drug.**

**Next chapter will come soon. Possibly late, 'cause I'm busy working on a screenplay.**

**Lim x  
**


	6. Heartbeats

**Disclaimer: Not mine, sorry.**

**Author's Note: Okay, so this was very late. I just wrote it about five minutes ago... or less. This is a very quick chapter, meant to kind of build up to what was going to happen. Lily, I borrowed your little "heartbeat" thing from one of your fics. It fit well. :) Thanks to those who have been reviewing, I'm sorry I haven't been able to get back to you yet. I've been quite busy.  
**

_Silent understanding, sudden comprehension..._

Stella had rushed to Mac after she read the note. He had looked at it, and they shared a knowing and worried look. Thoughts flooded both of their minds, fleeting and not one of them memorable. They passed like flies, fast and with no purpose. Some thoughts made little sense in the pressure of the moment.

Mac knew that something had to be done, and quickly. The two partners rushed to find Lindsay, the halls blurred and rushing by. Something was thundering, and Stella assumed it was her heart. She wondered if Mac could hear it. But he was looking straight ahead, ignoring her. She followed, almost stepping on his heels.

_Minds reeling, suspense churning..._

Lindsay knew something was up when Mac and Stella came running in. Stella was not playfully teasing Mac or flirting in that way that she thought was invisible to others (it wasn't), and Mac's normal calm exterior was at its breaking point. An elastic band could only be stretched so far before it would snap.

No words were shared; a piece of paper passed, and another look shared. Lindsay's face paled. Her hands, ready to feed a fingerprint into the machine, shook. A lab tech slowly pried the print from her fingers, suddenly clutching it like it would solve everything. Stella felt a stab of sympathy for the younger woman.

_In fear's clutches, heartbeats racing..._

Moments, precious moments, wasted. The trio stood in a void, cut off from those around them. Those who did not know the threat looming over them. Only they, the three CSIs, were not able to continue working, as if the sunny summer day would bring only warmth and light. Something colder, darker was approaching. Something that some of te lab techs and other CSIs had never even imagined.

Mac was the first to snap out of it, taking charge. No marine would ever let a threat cross a certain border. It was his job to protect that border. If the border had been crossed, as in this case, Mac knew retreat was the only option. A true marine knew when to retreat and when to fight. Now was one of those times to retreat; not to admit weakness, but to save other lives.

_Blood racing, tension rising..._

An alarm was triggered, scared and surprised voices rising. People headed for exits, a stream of colourful clothes or white lab coats. Glancing out a window, Stella saw people from all floors of the crime lab flooding into the streets, surprising those passing by.

The trio of CSIs seperated silently, off to herd those slower few out. People with headphones blasting looked up in shock as they were tapped on the shoulder and took off running for the stairs and elevator. Finally, it seemed as though everyone was out.

_Time slowing, danger closing in..._

Lindsay herself took off for the stairs when all from her area of the lab were evacuated. Her feet seemed to be moving of their own accord, leading her out, pulling her to safety.

Stella was second to start to leave, racing toward her office and the elevator. Lindsay's loud, fast footsteps guided her forward. Nothing else mattered, but listening to the steady rhythm of Lindsay's running.

Mac was the last to start running. As he began to put one foot forward...

_Five heartbeats..._

An ominous ticking from above quickened.

_Four heartbeats..._

One final tick...

_Three heartbeats..._

A deafening sound and a terrifying creak as the ceiling gave way. Pressure forced all beneath it to buckle.

_Two heartbeats..._

Screams from outside, exclaiming at the sight from outside the building.

_One heartbeat..._

_Darkness... silence..._

_Nothing._

**Author's Note: Next chapter hopefully sooner than this one! Reviews please!**

**Lim x  
**


	7. A Source Revealed

**Disclaimer: *plays a really fast disclaimer recording on repeat***

**Author's Note: And now, for more! More people, more fluff, more peril... kinda. More adjectives since I've started to read **_The Hobbit _**and seemed to have picked up the descriptiveness, should that actually be a word.**

Silence for one minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Then all hell broke loose.

One scream wailed through the silence in the surrounding streets. Traffic had stopped in a five block radius as the news of the evacuation had spread. That one scream pierced the air, loud enough to let those farthest away hear the faintest whisper of noise. Then chaos erupted: the scream was echoed by hundreds, slowly fanning out until those six blocks away were tuning into radio stations and news channels on the television. A chill and a strong wind came around, mother nature's way of showing that she too recognized the crisis among them.

Surrounding the New York Crime Lab was pandemonium.

Sirens blared; officers, firemen, and paramedics all rushed about; and parents called out to their frightened children. Dust blew in the air and officials tried to push people back, away from falling debris, crashing down from the top floors. The far side of the building seemed to be holding on for dear life, as if it knew of the four survivors just waking inside.

Across the street, from the safety of her mother's 14the floor apartment, Joyce stood with a cross between a sad smile and a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. A small, metallic remote was dangling off of a strap, twisted around her thumb and index finger. The powerlines had been knocked out, preventing her from finishing the television show she had been watching.

She spun around, long skirt sweeping across the floor as she walked, hair swirling around her face. Her partners in crime would be waiting for news, hidden away from any form of connection to the outside world.

She didn't even care that her mother, a janitor, had been inside the crime lab.

She would join her soon enough.

**CSI: NY**

Lindsay was the first to awaken, or at least, that was what she thought. A pained groan escaped her parted lips, though she soon clenched her teeth together to prevent a scream from escaping. Something was digging into the back of her right shoulder, and she could feel something sticky seeping through her shirt and dripping down her back and arm. Blood, no doubt.

She found she had plenty of room to sit up. The stairs had formed almost a little shelter when they had come down on top of her. The lab, one of her favourite places to be (because it meant she could normally find Danny within spitting distance), had lived up to the expectations she had of it: it had protected her, possibly saved her life. She reached up with her good arm to run a hand lightly across the beam over her head, gently enough to prevent it from coming down on her.

"Thank you," she murmured, wondering if she was out of her mind to be talking to the stairs, or what was left of them.

Danny had once told her that a priest, who had come in to talk to Mac about his dead daughter, had placed a blessing upon the building, to protect all those who did good within its four walls. Maybe that had been what had helped, along with the safety standards the building was checked for every six months.

Whatever the reason, Lindsay was thankful as she shook away a sudden dizzy spell. Using her good arm, she felt her other shoulder for the source of the pain: a broken piece of wood (from the interior of the staircase; wood reinforced with steel beams) sticking out of her shoulder at an odd angle.

Lindsay, forgetting the risk of digging splinters in deeper, tried to pull it out, only succeeding in snapping off the end. She could feel that the rest of it was still there. At least it wouldn't bleed too much.

She shakily pushed herself onto her knees, there not being quite enough room to stand. Metal and wood pushed into her bare knees, not quite breaking the skin. She cursed her shorts and the heat outside. She blindly felt around in the dim light, it only filtering in through cracks and small crevices. She tried to move forward, but which direction was forward? She had no idea what floor she had ended up on, or if she was even right-side-up.

Lindsay suddenly felt very small, and let out an involuntary whimper of fear that she had not known she was holding in.

**CSI: NY**

Where was Stella? was the thought that Mac awoke with. He had no idea if she had gotten out.

Mac groggily tried to gather his thoughts. His last memory was that of a ticking noise… the memory before that was being down in Sid's office, listening to the report on how Eva had found some trace that had helped solved a medical mystery… no. That wasn't right. That had happened almost a week ago.

He blinked and watched his world blur and get all jumbled about before it put itself together again.

The puzzle.

Yes, that was something.

The bodies with no marks… the strange woman he had bumped into in the lab… the letters… Claire.

No, Claire had nothing to do with the case. But nonetheless, her face stayed in the back of his mind. One question now bothered him: had she died instantly or was this how Claire had felt before her death? Wondering where she was? Thinking of those most important to her? And wondering if death was lurking in any of the surrounding shadows?

No.

Mac Taylor was a marine, and a strong one. This was nothing. A building had come down on him; it wasn't anything new. He had survived the first time, and he would a second time. He was not so easily defeated.

But he was tired. Yes, tired was something he was sure of. As he lay his head back, heavy and unable to look around any longer, he didn't realize how close he had gotten to escaping. His hand groped around weakly, before it caught hold of something warm and small.

He sank into the welcoming clutches of unconsciousness, comforted to find Stella's hand in his.

**CSI: NY**

It was a tempting pull, strong yet not strong enough. Something tried to grab at Stella's state of peace, tried to take it away from her. Stuck right at the brink of waking, she moaned and tried to mentally will whatever it was to go away. She briefly wondered (her thoughts flickering like little lights, not staying for more than mere moments) if she could use a sledgehammer to break that damned alarm clock that seemed to bang around inside her head, causing it to throb with a nasty headache.

Was something sitting on her? She could feel pressure, but dismissed it. Sleeping was nice. It was in rare supply in the recent weeks, quickly passed by. She wanted to get back to sleeping but that feeling of pressure was back. Still confused, Stella began counting sheep… only the sheep had trunks and very large, grey, flappy ears. Elepheep, her mind told her. In reality, one would find Stella smiling, though semi-unconscious.

Images of shattered glass, metal, and odd assortments of things passed by her eyes, along with some strange fractals of colour, that one might generally associate with a concussion or a drug trip. Stella, of course, was not on drugs.

There was only one thing Stella Bonasera was sure of:

One strong hand wrapped around hers.

_Mac…_

**CSI: NY**

Coffee was good in Sid Hammerback's opinion, especially after a few long days of trying to figure out the meaning of untouched bodies and colourful hearts. Coffee was like a saviour of sorts at the moment.

Sid was lucky to have been driving around, looking for a half decent coffee shop that didn't sell dirt-flavoured, slimy, cold liquid when the explosion occurred. He sat in a brightly lit, cheery little café about ten blocks away, sipping at a perfect blend of french vanilla, coffee, and partly skimmed cream, when a young boy- fourteen or fifteen at the most- came running in, shouting something. His words were panicked, rushed, and slurred with worry.

"Calm down, kid, and wassamatter?" the cashier shouted from the tiny kitchen in the back. Sid sat up in his booth.

"Explosion… big building… crime lab," he panted, hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. "Been warning everyone I can find."

Sid was immediately on his feet and next to the boy. He leaned down so he could get at eye level with him.

"Good boy. Now what have you heard? Was there anyone…"

Sid couldn't finish the sentence. The boy, however, knew the meaning.

"There were survivors coming out afterwards. A rescue has been set up, though no one knows for sure what happened…"

"Thank you," Sid breathed, and his cellphone was out before neither boy nor man could blink.

He hated to be the bringer of bad news, but he dialled and reported to, one by one, Hawkes, Danny, Flack, and Angell.

**Author's Note: *whistles innocently* There's certain details you must catch.**


	8. A Chapter

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.**

**Author's Note: Okay, I've been insanely busy with life. I'm so sorry I couldn't update sooner and that this chapter is mostly filler! Don't eat me, and I have a spork-repellent shield!**

**I'm super excited about this week's episode of CSI: NY. Stella and Mac go to Greece! I don't get CBS so I won't be able to see the finale on Thursday... I may be able to find it online however the next day, or I have to wait a week. But I'll go nuts! (I'm obsessed, I know.)  
**

Adam barely managed to squeeze through a gap between what seemed to be the remains of a desk and a door. He shrugged an electrical cord off of his shoulders as he passed through, crawling around an old laptop for what seemed to be the third time. He sighed and stopped to sit down.

Adam had been in the DNA lab when the building came down. Falling floors and other things had mercifully missed him. He had no idea how he had missed everyone evacuating around him. He had been working on a case for another CSI when it happened.

He debated shouting for help, but as far as he could tell, he was sure that he was pretty far from people, not hearing them at all. All he could hear was the thundering of his heart and his quick, panicky breaths. He tried to calm himself, breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth. After ten breaths, Adam got back to his knees and found himself able to stand. He walked over the debris and listened to the haunting silence. It seemed as though no one else was trapped inside until there was some mild swearing.

It was coming from behind a fallen slab of metal from the stairs. Adam rushed over, panting with the effort of running through and over everything, calling out:

"Is anyone there? Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Adam fell to his knees beside the slab of metal and placed his hands on it, trying to get a good grip. It pressed painfully into his palms, but Adam with temendous effort, managed to push the metal aside, coming face to face with Lindsay.

"Adam," she breathed, a rush of colour reappearing in her cheeks. "Is there…?"

Adam shook his head quickly, wondering about the question himself. Who else had been trapped? Who else was trying to find someone to help them? But he allowed himself a moment of relief now that he was with Lindsay. Together, they would probably get farther than on their own.

**CSI: NY**

Stella's first actual thought that could be sensibly pieced together was:

Something was wrong.

Yes, something was definitely wrong. It was too quiet, and wherever she was lying was not comfortable enough to be her bed. Her bed did not usually contain sharp, pointy things that jabbed into her back.

Her eyes fluttered open, she felt it, but it was as dark with her eyes open as it was with them closed. She hesitantly tried to lift her left hand upwards, but it was pinned down. Her right hand was not cold like the rest of her body, and she knew Mac was next to her. Ever since she had first brushed hands with him, getting coffee no less, she had recognized the feeling of his hands.

She sifted through her memories, to the last one: watching the building come crashing down around her. The last thing she had seen was the large filing cabinet heading straight for her. Now Stella knew what was on top of her. She had no idea what was over her head, however, because it certainly wasn't as heavy. It was dark though, and she wasn't sure where she was.

For a few minutes, she tried to summon her voice to call to Mac, but when she finally caught hold of it, it was snatched away. Her head hurt and she couldn't seem to find the strength to talk. As a last resort, she squeezed Mac's hand hard enough that she was worried she had broken it. It worked though, because a quiet voice whispered:

"Stella?"

She squeezed his hand again. It was a start.

**CSI: NY**

Adam and Lindsay were making their way through what they had a feeling was the trace lab. Adam had been in some impressive mazes as a kid around Halloween time, but this one would have freaked people out. They pushed through debris in their way or searched out twists and turns that they hoped would take them somewhere.

Adam had wondered if sitting and waiting would have been a better idea, but Lindsay had insisted on finding other survivors, had anyone else been trapped. He cast a worried glance back at her. Lindsay was lagging behind, obviously slowed by the lack of one arm.

"We can stop, you know…"

"No."

Lindsay spoke through clenched teeth, and she looked dead set on moving forward. She pushed past Adam with surprising strength for a small woman. Adam wasn't blind, and he could practically see the waves of distress eminating off of her. Her eyes screamed out the name Danny. They burned with a determined fire, that Adam knew he probably would have sported too if someone he loved was at risk of being trapped in a fallen building.

That brought a sudden thought to his mind: since Kendell, who was the one he loved?

It was Lindsay's cry of relief that alerted Adam of the facts that a) they would finally stand up straight and b) that Mac sat in front of them, looking like he was thinking over several different options concerning the filing cabinet in front of him.

That's when Adam noticed the hand sticking out from underneath.

"Help me lift this, Adam," he said gruffly, taking hold of the side of the huge metal cabinet. Adam rushed over to help, finding it lighter than he expected.

Mac, focusing now on the task in front of him, paid no attention to the fact that he couldn't seem to remember Adam's last name. Things from the case had come back which was a slight relief. Now just tiny details escaped him.

It took a minute before the two men managed to lift the cabinet onto its side. Relieved of the weight on top of her, Stella ducked out from underneath what she realized was the bottom of a desk. She blinked in the dim light, Adam sat back against the cabinet, and Lindsay took a spot beside Mac.

It was then that they heard the shouts from outside.

**Author's Note: Something will happen eventually. I also posted a rather dark fic called **In the Shadows **a couple minutes ago. Check it out if you like!**

**Lim x  
**


	9. An Ending

**Disclaimer: Wow... long time, no disclaiming.** **You get the idea.**

**Author's Note: I'm... I'm back. *blinks* And with a chapter! It's short and it's crappy and it's unedited but it's HERE. I UPDATED! I'm very proud of myself at this moment. I really hope you all haven't forgotten about me or my stories! That would make me sad. This definitely came late... like five months, but it's here. Enjoy! This is just wrapping up a couple of loose ends I left off with. None of the trapped team in this.**

Flack could tell the shouting was not going to stop any time soon. He struggled to push his way through the ever growing crowd. He found that he was having to show his badge more often than he would have likes and he even had to go to the extent of pulling his gun on two drunken lunatics who were ranting and raving about terrorist attacks, the "Goddamn Taliban" and how they thought cops were in on it.

He shoved his way to the police tape where Sid stood, hands in pockets, looking flustered. A cop who was standing next to Sid saw Flack and hastily stepped away at the sight of Flack's new livid expression.

"What the fu- …what the _hell_ are you doing?" he practically shouted over the noise behind them. The wail of sirens continued. Flack knew he was going to have a headache later.

Sid tried to step in and explain, "My ID tag was on my other jacket…" and the cop did not even get the chance to stammer a single syllable before Flack cut him off.

"Some of our people- and my friends- are in there. This man is our ME so get out of our way _now._"

Flack almost growled the last word.

He ducked under the police tape which was hastily and clumsily being put up and waved Sid under as well. Both men got quiet as they surveyed the wreckage. Flack clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace in a fashion that reminded Sid very much of Mac.

Then Flack stopped.

"You're sure they're in there?"

Sid nodded sadly. He had made sure to contact all those he knew were not in the lab but had not heard from Adam, Lindsay, Mac, or Stella. Sid knew that they would have phoned somebody if they were all right.

Flack sat down on an overturned mailbox. He held his head in his hands and shook his head. Sid took a seat next to him and put a hand on Flack's shoulder. He rubbed it lightly for a moment before prodding Flack to his feet again.

"You'll have time to mourn if I announce them dead. But since I have no intention of doing that-" an optimistic gleam appeared in Sid's eyes- "you'll have to go find them, now won't you?

Flack laughed. It was a rough sound because for a moment he had not been sure he could do it under the circumstances. But he clapped Sid on the shoulder and rushed off, shouting orders to other uniformed officers.

Sid grinned and went off to see what he could help with.

**CSI: NY**

Joyce stood with her hands behind her back. Her hands were braced on the edge of the balcony rails. She looked down at the street below and smiled. She may have been a heartless bastard (according to some) during life but she was ready to face her sins. If she would be forced to rot in Hell, so be it. If there was one thing she understood it was life- and possibly the afterlife- was unfair.

Her hair fell in wisps around her face as the wind pushed it from behind her ears. She pulled herself up onto the rail and balanced skillfully. She laughed and shouted something inaudible to the crowd below. People began to look up.

The noise that was already loud grew in volume and in panic. She heard people calling for help and she giggled like a little girl who thought everyone was worried for no reason. God, she was not doing this for a publicity stunt.

She felt the chilled wind nip at her cheeks and tear like raindrops begin to fall and roll down her cheeks. She tasted one but it was not salty like a real tear. She supposed this was God's way of telling her she really was heartless. Nevertheless, her mother was waiting for her. She wouldn't keep her waiting.

Joyce stood on the rail for a moment longer.

Then she jumped.

**Author's Note: Well... that ended on a depressing note. I wasn't sure what else to do, so when in doubt: use drama. Where do you guys want this to go? I had it plotted out but... I got bored with it before so I'm trying to avoid that.**

**REVIEWS!**

**Lim.  
**


	10. An Unlikely Friend

**Disclaimer: Someone please buy me CSI: NY for Christmas or at least let me hug Gary Sinise!**

**Author's Note: It's been awhile, yet again, but here's another chapter. You guys had better start reviewing! . On a somewhat sadder note, this story is coming to an end in two more chapters and yes, it seems as though I'll be summing things up a little to quickly. Never fear, a sequel is in the works! Happy reading!  
**

Zhou and Garrett stood at the edge of the crowd gathered around the apartment building Joyce had jumped from. Zhou was silent and Garrett was trying to restrain a sadistic laugh. Zhou pinned him with a hard glare.

"What?" Garrett asked, letting a chuckle escape. "I knew she wasn't totally heartless."

Zhou just shook his head and began walking away. Garrett's expression became flustered and he followed with an exasperated sigh. He went to grab Zhou's elbow but Zhou pulled away with excellent reflexes.

"You're not going to get through this with sympathy, man," Garrett explained, as if speaking to a young child. His voice was laced with sugar and honey. Zhou looked like he'd had bile shoved down his throat instead.

"I did not agree to watch people die! I am a toy maker and nothing else. You forced me to make you that puzzle and that is done. Why am I still here?" Zhou exclaimed, his voice raised a few octaves too high.

Garrett slapped a hand over the Asian's mouth and dragged him around a corner onto another street.

"You're still here because I can't risk being caught. Joyce obviously couldn't deal so if you can't either, follow her example!"

Garrett let out a growl of anxiety and began to take off down the street. He was almost halfway to the other side of the block when he turned back, his face as red as a tomato.

"You know what? You know what, you coward? Go! Fucking run away! See if I care! I'm not your babysitter! Just remember: if you tell anyone, you're a dead man!"

Zhou visibly paled. Continuing his charade of being scared, he ran down the street and let out a relieved laugh when he was back where they had started in the crowd. Finally, he was off the hook. Taking one last look at the apartment building Joyce had jumped from, he took off towards the fallen crime lab.

**CSI: NY**

Adam ran a hand through his hair. He looked over at Lindsay who was leaning against an overturned desk. Stella had her head on Mac's shoulder and Mac was watching Adam. Adam tried to smile or even crack a joke but all that came out of his opening mouth was a scared squeak.

He cleared his throat and tried again but with no humour in his grim expression.

"Anyone even know what floor we're on?"

All three of his companions shook their heads. Adam sighed. Mac began voicing Adam's thoughts that he did not really want to hear out loud.

"We shouldn't move if we don't know where we are. There's a higher chance of someone finding us rather than us finding them."

Adam paced. He was standing under a ceiling that not collapsed. They were in between the standing part of the building and the part that was debris. The stairs and the elevator were on the fallen half of the crime lab. It was only at a time like this that anyone would notice the error made when the crime lab was built.

Stella pulled herself to her feet. She swayed and Adam jumped forward to grab her arm. He asked if she was all right and she nodded.

"Just dizzy. I'm fine, Adam."

Adam let go and put a hand on her shoulder. Stella looked at him and noticed his pained expression. She was about to ask if he was injured but Adam cut her off.

"I'm scared, Stel. This entire time, all I could think about was that time when Danny and I were held hostage and you, Mac, and Hawkes were trapped here. I keep thinking that I've never been as scared as I was then… 'cept for now. I used to think this lab was safe."

His eyes were wide like a little boy's. Stella gave him a sad smile and pulled him into a tight hug. She rubbed his back in circles like his own mom had once done when he was scared of the monsters under his bed. He was the one to pull away and he thanked her.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, he heard a sound. It was a shout but this one was louder than the others that sounded as if they were at a distance.

"Hear that?"

Lindsay's head shot up.

"We're closer to the ground than we thought!"

Adam nodded but that was not what was bothering him. The voice was calling his name.

**CSI: NY**

Zhou pushed past the uniforms with surprising strength for a thin man of only five feet and two inches. They shouted and followed him but he ducked underneath the police tape and without looking, ran straight into Sid who was in charge of a coffee run for the second time that day. Zhou stumbled back.

Before Sid could get a word in, Zhou started yelling.

"ADAM! ADAM ROSS!"

Sid jumped forward.

"Sir, I know Adam. I can-"

"ADAM! I NEED TO TALK TO ADAM ROSS!"

Sid clamped down on the man's shoulders and forced him to sit on the same mailbox that Sid and Flack had been sitting on earlier.

"I know Adam but he's…"

Sid hesitated and Zhou looked up at the crime lab and back at Sid. The uniforms were hovering a little too close for his comfort.

"Can you tell them to, uh, back off a bit?"

Sid nodded and waved the uniforms away. However, he called over Flack who was talking to a group of firemen. Flack looked curiously down at Zhou, one hand resting on his still holstered piece.

"Who is this guy? How'd he get in here?"

Sid held up a hand to silence the detective. He gestured for Zhou to talk. Zhou nervously licked his lips in spite of the fact he was already soaked from the rain.

"Adam. He's… he's in there?"

Zhou did not even need to see Flack and Sid nod. He let out a dry sob. He shook his head and began muttering something under his breath. Fingers wound their way around shoulder length black hair and tugged at it.

"All my fault…"

Flack's eyes suddenly blazed. He grabbed the strange Chinese man's chin and yanked it upward so they were looking at each other.

"You had better start talking."

Zhou nodded and began his story.

"Adam and I went to school together…"

He explained how Garrett and Joyce both had histories with the NYPD and how those histories blended with a lot of hatred. Flack's face darkened when he heard Joyce's name. Zhou went on to tell how the entire thing had been planned years in advance and how he had been used; pulled from his shop and held at gunpoint and forced to make the puzzle. It ended in tears. Flack had turned away, half angry, half worrisome.

"And I know they had a backup plan. Garrett would not have let me leave if they did not. All I know is that your CSIs are not safe, in the crime lab or out."

**Author's Note: REVIEWS PLEASE. Also, a small sneak peak from the next chapter (or a hint, at least): You guys will hate me because I have something in store for Mac and let's just say a certain Greek woman will not be happy. xD**

**Lim. x  
**


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